


Let's Drink to That

by strangeallure



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Drinking & Talking, Fanart, Fanfiction, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23052265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure
Summary: After a long day of patching up soldiers, Mac invites Phryne to share a drink.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher & Elizabeth MacMillan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: Purimgifts 2020





	Let's Drink to That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etoilecourageuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilecourageuse/gifts).



Mac barely noticed the sparsely furnished room around her as she poured a scotch and sat down on the bed next to Phryne, who forced a smile as she took the glass.

“Thank you,” she said, clearly trying for a touch of nonchalance in her tone.

Mac gave her a long, hard look before taking the hand not occupied with holding Phryne’s glass in her own.

“Stop it,” she said. “We’ve been up to our elbows in wounded soldiers all day. No-one in their right mind lives through that without being affected.” She downed most of her scotch in one gulp. “Hell knows I do."

Phryne took a drawn-out, delicate sip, like she needed the time to think over Mac's words. “But you always seem so … collected, calm under pressure.” There was a note of admiration in her voice and a shine of something like envy in her eyes.” Like nothing phases you.”

Mac gave a short, throaty laugh. “So do you,” she pointed out.

Phryne’s mouth opened in surprise and her hand in Mac’s gave a quick squeeze. “Yes, but –”

“Both of us have highly professional work selves we put on like armor.” Mac shrugged. “That’s why we’re so good at our jobs. That’s why we always function, why we can perform under immense pressure.”

Phryne was quiet, but her gaze was on Mac alone.

“It’s a good thing you don’t let everyone in on your pain. There are plenty of callous people out there, even among the supposed good guys.” Mac emptied her glass. “Some were made that way by their experiences here, and some, I suspect, have always been egotistical and cruel.” She put the glass on the floor so she could take Phryne’s free hand in both of hers. “But the mask can’t stay on forever. Sometimes, your real self has to breathe.” She gave a small smile. “That’s why I offered to share my second-to-last bottle of scotch with you. I need to unwind, and I suspect you might, too.”

Phryne tilted her head, considering. She finished her drink in quick gulps and followed Mac’s example, putting the glass on the floor.

“So what shall we do now?” Phryne said, and there was a twinge of seduction in her voice. A part of Mac wanted to respond to it, longed to have a beautiful woman in her arms and let all the bad things around them fall away, even for one night, but if Mac read her right, this was just another mask Phryne was trying to put on, a way to cope, a quick fix. Mac wasn't looking for that, not tonight.

She got up, dug out the bottle of Merlot hidden in her luggage and announced, “We’ll switch to this.” She held up the wine. “And we’ll sit and we’ll talk, and we’ll probably cry.”

“You’ll cry, too?” Phryne asked, clearly taken aback.

“I’ll bring on the waterworks like you wouldn’t believe,” Mac reassured her. “It’s a tried-and-true release mechanism for pressure and emotional trauma.” She winked to lighten the implication of her words. “Believe me, I’m a doctor.”

“I’ll have to warn you, doctor,” Phryne responded, picking up on the lightness in Mac's tone, “Once you’ve seen me with runny make-up and a snotty nose, we’ll have to become best friends."

Somehow, Mac knew right then that they were on the same page, that they'd start out with quips and witticisms, but that before long, they'd be having deep, drunk discussions about the messes and minutiae of this war, about missed opportunities and questionable choices on the small and grand scale, and how they were the ones having to deal with the consequences, intended and otherwise.

“I’ll risk it,” Mac said and took a drink straight from the bottle.


End file.
